


Maybe Something Happened

by TinyPineTrees



Series: Ride the Wind AU [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Panic Attacks, Ride the Wind AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyPineTrees/pseuds/TinyPineTrees
Summary: Tommy struggles to acknowledge Changretta’s attack for what it was. Alfie tried to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt! Thank you anon! 
> 
> I loved RTW! Here's an idea set in that AU: when thing settle down, Tommy struggles to deal with the aftermath of Changretta's assault, but refuses to acknowledge it (telling himself that 'nothing' really happened). But then when he and Alfie are about to have sex, (or maybe in the middle of it) Tommy's memories of the attack are triggered and he has a panic attack. Alfie comforts him, and Tommy finally acknowledges that he needs time to heal from the events. Lots of hurt/comfort! 
> 
> This is set just before the Epilogue of Ride the Wind. 
> 
> This was difficult to write, thank you so much for the challenge! :) I hope you love it!!

They’d be leaving in four days. Esme was ecstatic, having put the kids to bed with dreams of crooked, ancient forests and massive snowy fields blanketing the horizon. Her stories were hardly necessary as her joy was contagious. Indominiable in its good cheer. Polly had caught it as well, smiling frequently and even more so once she announced that Michael would be joining them. Alfie couldn’t say he was pleased for Michael, but he was happy to commiserate with someone who was equally inexperienced at travelling as he was. Despite having done it once, it felt like the first time all over again. No central heating, plumbing or ovens. Those were the big losses he struggled with.

 

“Esme’s finally settled down them?” Tommy crept into their bedroom. “Haven’t heard her for twenty minutes now.”

 

“Well, you can’t blame her.” Alfie said, setting his book aside and patting the bed.

 

“I’m not,” His waistcoat was thrown in their laundry, trousers soon joining them. “Its a vacation for her.” Tommy had several emotions on travelling. He hadn’t voiced half of them, but the wind spoke for itself, and Alfie could guess as well. He didn’t like guessing though, that was always bad with Tommy.

 

“Johnny Dogs likes them well enough,” Alfie tried. “These,” his hand stuttered, trying to find their name. “Boswells.”

 

“Johnny Dogs has barely just met them.” The wind rattled lowly around the bed, whispering across blankets. “How could he know?” Tommy said, stopping in front of the bed and standing anxiously before him.

 

“Their relations too, on some level,” Alfie reached a hand out, taking Tommy’s. “From Polly’s side, innit?” He tugged him down, angling for Tommy to sit with him.

 

Maybe they were leaving too soon. Tommy’s bruises hadn’t healed fully, to say the least of Alfie’s back from the tunnel collapse. They hadn’t fully discussed the events either. Arthur’s leading the business, Ada and Karl’s kidnapping, and Changretta’s assault were all tenuously danced around. Immediate needs had been met and Arthur was well informed on what he’d need to do to keep the family afloat, but Tommy’s feelings on the matter were locked tight.

 

Alfie had tried to speak to Tommy once about it, but was brushed off with a short, _“Nothing happened.”_ If Changretta had lived he’d have ripped those words straight from his mouth.

 

“Family or not, I’ve never met them.” Tommy’s eyes tightened. “I don’t know them.”

 

His hands slid slowly up Tommy’s arm, fingers brushing over his soft nightshirt, grasping gently near his elbow as he pulled Tommy down and settled him comfortably on his thighs. The wind flickered, tossing the edge of their blanket up before crawling off unseen.

 

Despite being unable to see it, _and despite what Tommy said,_ Alfie felt Tommy had an innate sense of where the wind was and where it was headed. Tommy loudly disagreed with that statement, citing multiple instances of when it snapped from unexpected places. If Alfie was subtle and attentive though, he could catch Tommy’s eyes flashing unconsciously in odd directions. Even now his eyes sank lowly, almost imperceptibly to the left. Too slowly to be following movement. Knowing where the wind was before emotional discussions was becoming comfortably routine.

 

Establishing information and forming a plan. A brief, predictable comfort in the unplanned world they lived in. After Changretta, slow and steady was Alfie’s plan.

 

Tommy hadn’t let Alfie close enough to test that plan though, let alone share his feelings on the matter. Every time they’d settled in for more than a cuddle Tommy would stop them, excusing himself to a suddenly very pressing matter. Whether he realized he was avoiding him, Alfie couldn’t say.

 

“You don’t know the Lee’s so well either, and they’re good fun on the road.” His hands climbed higher up Tommy’s arms, feather light as they passed his shoulders and brushed his chin. Tommy responded easily, threading his fingers through Alfie’s as he leaned into the touch. He hadn’t pushed Tommy much past light touching.

 

Given how he’d handled discovering Changretta’s assault originally, by throwing Tommy backwards on a bed and practically dragging his clothes off, he had some redeeming to do.

 

“Still better than Boswells.” Tommy said, moving to climb off of him, Alfie held him still though, one hand slipping down to his waist keeping him seated. An eyebrow quirked at him. “Something on your mind?”

 

“Well,” Alfie paused. “Thought we could talk about them, the Boswells that is,” This was good, starting with a safer conversation. “Miriam.”

 

“Alfie do you want to talk about the wind, or Boswells?”

 

“Well, she’s one and the same, now isn’t she?” Alfie said as Tommy’s hand lowered, picking errant lint off of his shirt.

 

“I’m not worried about her. Travelling will help more than she will, but I’ll listen to what she says.” Tommy said, leaning in close. “Something tells me that’s not what’s on your mind though.” He whispered.

 

“Well,” He croaked out, his argument faltering as Tommy widened his eyes, making them large and innocent. Alfie couldn’t argue against those eyes, how could anyone? Either consciously or unconsciously, he’d naturally started defending himself. As if he knew the argument was brewing inside Alfie.

 

He coughed, forcing Tommy to turn away for a second as he cleared his throat. One dirty trick for another. He’d never been able to form an argument when Tommy looked at him like that.

 

“Thought maybe we’d have some you and me time,” His eyebrows furrowed as Alfie’s hands trailed to his hips, keeping his touch as light as he could. “Figured it’s been a minute, and we’ve been busy. We can’t be sure how much time we’ll find on the road.”

 

“You wanted to discuss that?” A pleasant laugh breezed through the room. “Alfie, you don’t need to discuss it with me, you can just ask.” Despite the smile that grew from his laugh, Alfie could feel a nervous strain, running through his movements. Thin strands of wind were anxiously threading together, ruffling the bedspread.

 

“I wanted to though. Discuss it. After Changretta-”

 

“Alfie _,_ ” The wind slowed. “I told you.” His eyes snapped, losing their wide innocence.

 

“I know, I know what you told me, I’m telling you-”

 

“ _Nothing happened.”_

 

Alfie’s hands clenched around his hips, causing Tommy to jolt and his hands to tighten further. The wind cracked, rattling the windows as it twisted widely around the room. They both froze, keeping still as it stalked around them. No one would have a good night if Tommy tore the house down. Polly had warned them earlier as well, threatening Alfie especially that if he felt the need to rile Tommy up, then he’d need to do it in wide open spaces, and if he chose to not to he’d be paying repairs. He was more concerned with helping Tommy than repairs though.

 

“You think nothing happened, yeah?” He sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his patience. Arguing with Tommy wouldn’t help, no matter how much he needed to see Changretta’s assault for what it was. “Alright.” He breathed out. “Can we at least consider, that _something_ might have happened?”

 

“You weren’t there, you don’t know-”

 

“I don’t need to have been there to know Tommy.” _‘Stop arguing, don’t argue Alfie.’_ He loosened his hands, rubbing softly up his waist to safer territory. The wind brushed over him, agitated as it rippled passed and across the bedspread. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut, but it was close. “Tommy,” His hands were pulled off as Tommy climbed off his thighs, laying down and putting his back to him.

 

“Alright,” Alfie whispered to himself. “Tomorrow maybe.” He turned the lamp off before laying down as well. They had to stop back in London before they left, and Alfie was determined to help Tommy see the assault for what it was before they left. Experiencing all of the emotions around something like that, whilst also being surrounded by family and people Tommy didn’t know, didn’t seem like a good idea. In fact Alfie would call it a downright awful idea. He just had to find a way get through to Tommy in the next few days.

 

———

 

“Alfie,” Tommy’s voice came from upstairs. “I think you’ve mixed up your numbers.”

 

They’d arrived in London early, rare sunlight was streaming through the windows bathing everything in its cheerful tone. It was almost idyllic, being back in his peaceful and quiet house, with his nice bed and Tommy, warm and safe.

 

If Alfie hadn’t been outside already he’d have thought it was almost warm, but he knew better. Bright and cheerful, but frigid and bitter.

 

“Doesn’t sounds like me.” He called back.

 

Esme was still determined to leave though, and they were all on her schedule. They’d spend one more day in London, arranging protection for the bakery in case of another Changretta situation and then head north to meet up with the rest of the Shelby’s and Johnny Dogs.

 

He enjoyed being with Tommy’s family, there was the exception of Arthur, but they were all lovely in their own way. Small breaks away from them before prolonged family time was necessary though, without it, tension and tempers ran high.

 

As such, their conversations following Alfie’s disastrous heart to heart were kept light. Alfie hadn’t pushed and Tommy hadn’t offered, but his previous words lingered, hidden in the quiet spaces between their conversations and actions. Tommy was on edge, made even more apparent by the wind’s agitation, but he seemed determined to continue on as though nothing changed.

 

“Alfie,” Tommy finally stepped into his office. “If you plan on keeping your bakery, you’re really going to need to look into an accountant.”

 

“Now that is absolute bull and you know it love, you happen to be in the presence of a genius mathematician.” Alfie grinned, tilting his head up and watching as Tommy tried to fight the smile that grew across his face. The wind flickered, tossing the drapes on the windows as it sank to the floor.

 

”You’re a genius?” Tommy said, moving closer and leaning against his desk.

 

“Certified Sweetie, even got myself a certificate of authenticity if you’d like to see it.” He folded his hands as he leaned backwards. “It’s very official.”

 

Tommy dropped a billing statement onto his desk. “Did you get it in school? Finn came home with one of those once, Polly was so proud she kept it, I think it’s in a keepsake box.” He flipped several pages over, pausing on the fifth one. “See that number?”

 

Alfie sighed as he leaned forward, peering at pages. He could see his error now, blatant and obvious. He’d mistaken a one for a seven, something that happened frequently when the writing was tiny, and unfortunately it ruined the rest of that page. Tommy was right, he really should look into an accountant. Admitting that though was less than fun, and showing his earnings to anyone he didn’t trust made his skin crawl.

 

“Simple error love, geniuses do make them.” He stood slowly, pulling Tommy closer and wrapped an arm around his waist, mindful of the slowly healing bruises. “I’ll fix it later.”

 

“I’ve already fixed it.” Tommy pointed down the row, showing the recalculated figures lined up neatly next to Alfie’s originals. A thin breeze slid around his hand, curling around his wrist and back to the desk. Alfie grabbed a pen, quickly drawing a line through his mistake before tossing it mindlessly back onto the desk and flipping through the last few pages. The wind danced off then, wandering to where Alfie couldn’t follow.

 

“Well, then I’ll pay better attention next time.” He conceded. Having Tommy look over his accounting all the time was slightly unfair, but he did have a better mind for numbers.

 

“Or,” Tommy brought his arms up, circling them around Alfie’s neck. “You could just hire an accountant.” Tommy said, blinking mischievously at him. “I bet Finn would do it at a discount.” Alfie sighed. “Although as his brother I would really encourage him to charge full price. He is a Shelby after all, and we’re quite expensive-”

 

Alfie cupped Tommy’s jaw, swallowing his teasing with kisses. Tommy smiled into his lips, his hands finding their way to his beard as their tongues met and Alfie’s hand slipped around his back.

 

They moved at a relaxed pace, taking everything one step at a time. Alfie’s hand’s slowly sliding down, gripping Tommy’s thighs and easing him up onto the desk. Maybe this was a better idea, gently encouraging Tommy into what he felt comfortable with, and not outright discussing Changretta until Tommy brought him up.

 

“I can feel you thinking.”

 

Nothing would spoil the mood more than bringing Changretta up again, but Alfie had a new plan now.

 

“Planning our trip in my head,” He forced an image of Tommy’s wagon into his head, struggling to picture its plush blankets and cushions. “Thinking of how pretty you’ll look, spread out on that nice, soft bed.” He said, praying Tommy wouldn’t look too far into it.

 

“Are you?” Tommy smiled shakily against his lips, his eyes going far off, hopefully picturing the wagon as well.

 

“We’ll have to get some of those big, fucking pillows you like.” He tilted Tommy backwards to lay on the desk, whispering against his neck. “Maybe some thicker blankets this time,” He said. Tommy hummed in agreement as Alfie’s hands explored. After the last week of quick kisses it was almost a godsend to get a little bit of time to themselves. His hands swept down Tommy’s back, stroking softly under his shirt as they brushed lower. “Much softer than over a desk, don’t you think?” He laughed, tugging Tommy flush against him. Tommy froze, going stiff in his arms.

 

“Huhm,” He croaked, going pale as he placed a hand on Alfie’s chest, pushing him away slightly. He swallowed thickly, stuttering as his breath coming out too quickly to get any words out.

 

“Tommy?” Alfie slid one hand around, holding his waist lightly until Tommy scrabbled away, clutching at papers and pens and pushing them aside. “Love?”

 

The wind snapped, careening through the room and tossing everything as it threw them over. Alfie launched forward, catching Tommy and breaking their fall.

 

“Shit! Tommy, it’s ok, we’re alright.” Alfie pulled Tommy close, brushing his hands soothingly down his arms as the wind swung around. The desk creaked loudly, threatening to tip as stronger gales blew toward them. “We’re alright, we’re good.” He repeated in a rhythm. Whether or not Tommy heard him, Alfie couldn’t say. He’d fisted one hand tight at Alfie’s collar, the other clutching close around his neck as his breathing grew more erratic. Alife reached over, fighting through the thick gales to pull his hand away.

 

“You’re ok Tommy, I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re ok.” The torrent grew wilder, whipping violently around the room as it tore at anything it could reach. Tommy shook harder, eyes snapping at unseen terrors. “Try and look at me now,” his breath whistled, high pitched as Alfie tilted him upright. The desk flew sideways, slamming into the wall loudly as Tommy’s eyes found his. “Good, ok, now.” He placed his hand gently on Tommy’s chest. “Try and breathe with me.”

 

Bits of glass were winding into the current, slicing through papers and fabrics as it spun madly above them. Tommy’s breath rattled lowly, the wind shuddering, mimicking his breathing as its collection shook through the air, rigid and tense. Alfie covered their eyes, preparing in case the glass fell over them. It sank sluggishly, books and pillows dropping quicker than the pens, wood and chipped glass. They were going to have to start nailing things down. What if the desk had fallen on them? Alfie didn’t want to think about that.

 

Tommy grabbed his hand tightly, hiding his face in Alfie’s chest as the after effects of panic rang through him. Dust was drifting lazily over sunbeams. Cheerful and golden, amidst his ruined office. The wind twisted, stepping over the wreckage to curl around them, relaxed and gentle once more. Alfie sank wearily, turning them to lie on the floor as he looked over, surveying the damage. The windows hadn’t broken this time. They didn’t look like they’d last another explosion, but they’d held well today. He looked down, feeling something tickling at his throat. Tommy was whispering apologies into his neck, a distraught look etched across his face.

 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Alfie tucked him closer, holding him tightly as he hid his face again. “Did you get cut?”

 

“Alfie,” Tommy’s voice choked, bitter and defeated. “Alfie, I’m sorry.” His voice rose miserably from Alfie’s chest. He’d wanted Tommy to express his emotions, but seeing his insecurity was heartbreaking. He was almost entirely limp, acceptance taking everything out of him, leaving him exhausted where he lay.

 

“It’s alright love.” Alfie could see his eyelids closing.

 

“No it isn’t.”

 

They shouldn’t sleep on the floor of a trashed office. They really shouldn’t sleep on the floor at all, but even more so with the dust and dirt the wind kicked up.

 

Tommy was heavy in his arms as he sat up, lifting him gently in case he did get cut. He’d sleep better in bed. The wind hadn’t damaged the stairs, so his climb was easy. Sooner or later his house was going to look like Watery lane. Now he knew why the wallpaper looked as worn as it did. What with wind constantly ripping through it. He wasn’t sure it was all the wind’s fault though, the house itself was old and the Shelby’s only recently had the money to fix it.

 

He nudged the door their bedroom open, scanning the room for any damage in the floor or walls. They’d learned the hard way to check the floor’s stability after John almost fell through the hallway while exploring Ada’s destroyed house. It was unscarred though, a few photographs had fallen off the walls, but that was easily fixed.

 

Tommy roused slightly as Alfie laid him down, blearily reaching for him. He grabbed their blankets then, tugging it over Tommy as he joined him, situating them easily so Tommy could curl around him.

 

“I think you were right.” Tommy said, whispering brokenly in Alfie’s ear. He pulled the blanket up over his head then, leaving only a small tuft of hair to peek out from underneath.

 

“Something happened.” Alfie agreed, carding a hand through Tommy’s hair.

 

“Something happened.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The comfort part of hurt/comfort.

“Feeling ok?” Alfie asked, sweeping one hand down his back.

 

“We’re good, I’m ok.” Tommy said, nodding. Colors bled across the wagon floor, daintily peeking through the stained glass window, catching the last few rays of sunlight. It was peaceful, finally, after the stressful last few weeks, especially so with their small, iron heater puffing warmly in the corner. Alfie was ridiculously proud of that purchase. He’d cited multiple instances when it would come in handy, such as a chilly; bedroom, living room, Romani wagon, endless possibilities. He’d even bragged about haggling over the price of it.

 

“Still ok?” A whiskery kiss was pressed under his jaw.

 

“Still ok.” Tommy agreed.

 

Alfie shifted, kissing down his throat. One enjoyable thing about traveling toward the Boswells was the freedom to cuddle out in the open. Habit kept them indoors mostly, but the option was nice.

 

Polly would hide a smile behind her scarf, pulling Michael along when she felt they needed a moment. Arthur had been annoyingly present though, appearing often for his new _‘Roll Call’_ , but he usually left after checking on them. Alfie protested loudly, but Arthur needed the headcount to function.

 

“I’m not ruining the mood by checking on you am I?”

 

“No.” Tommy said. And he wasn’t. He wasn’t about to go shouting that Changretta had left a few scars, but he was willing to admit _something_ happened. He still couldn’t bear to say the words out loud, he probably never would.

 

“How comfortable are we with hips?” Alfie asked, pulling away for a moment. His hands gently cupping the back of his head, tilting him upwards so Alfie clearly saw his face. Their heater sputtered dully, thin strands of wind catching on the rising smoke, spinning lazily.

 

“Maybe,” A blush crept up his neck, “Maybe keep above them for now?” He tried to speak confidently, but it whispered out of him, docile and timid. It was frustrating, the fear that came with Alfie’s touch. He hadn’t given sex much thought until the episode in his office, firmly believing that if Alfie was the one touching him everything would be fine. Apparently not. All it took was a laugh and a joke about being fucked over a desk and suddenly too large hands were creeping down his back. His throat closed up and Changretta stepped through the black spots fading across his vision, holding him in a vice grip. He shuddered at the thought.

 

“I think we should take a little break.” Alfie’s voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to into the room. “What do you think?” Open and patient eyes met Tommy’s.

 

“No,” He threaded his fingers through Alfie’s. “I’m fine, just had a bad thought.” The smoke from the heater tilted, thickening as it circled the wagon.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alfie asked, dragging a hand through the smoke, cutting it in two and watching as it blended back together. It was too bad they’d kicked the covers down to the foot of the bed, he wanted desperately to pull them over his head and hide right now. He shook his head, struggling to find the words.

 

A knock echoed around wagon, heavy footsteps joining it.

 

“Tommy?” Arthur called, knocking again. “You in there?” The smoke thinned, slipping out through cracks in the wagon. “Roll Call, and I want to see your face this time!” He shouted. Of course he did. Arthur wouldn’t accept yelling ‘Here!’, _‘What if someone’s in there with you, telling you what to say hmm? What then?’_

 

“One second,” Tommy crawled over Alfie, throwing on a heavy jacket and digging for a cigarette as he stepped to door. He pushed the top half of the door open, bracing as frigid wind rushed to greet him, dashing around to explore. “Present.”

 

“Ha ha.” Arthur sniped. “It makes me feel better so don’t make fun of it.” Snow drifted off the cover, falling gently over Arthur’s hat. “Solomons in there too?” He squinted, peeking around him. Tommy leant on one elbow, twisting to face Alfie. He was busy, tugging the blankets back up and fixing pillows. “Polly’s thinking about food, come out and say ‘hi’ sometime eh?”

 

“We’ll be out, we’ve been-”

 

“I do not want to know, I never want to know.” Arthur cut him off embarrassedly, hugging his arms tight for warmth. He leaned in closer to Tommy then “Unless he’s treating you wrong, I want to know then. You’d tell me, right?” He eyed Tommy conspiratorially. Tommy’s breath stuttered out, choking on his usual response. He wasn’t sure he’d ever tell Arthur.

 

“Just a look Tommy,” Arthur whispered, concern overriding the sheepishness as he climbed up a step. “That’s all I’d need, you don’t even have to say anything.”

 

“Arthur, Alfie treats me very well.” Tommy whispered back.

 

“Yeah well, sure.” He’d gone back to embarrassed again, looking everywhere but Tommy. “But I worry, since the fucking Italian, you know?” He scratched at his mustache. “I want you to know you can tell me. Like Ada, Ada can give me a look and I’ll know.”

 

“Has this happened with Ada before?”

 

Arthur shrugged. That was news to Tommy. He’d like to know who had done that, and if they were still alive.

 

“A look Tommy.” His eyes found Tommy’s. “Just one.” He nodded, stepping off the stairs and turning away. Tommy watched him as he kicked through the snow, nearly slipping when he rounded Esme’s wagon. One look then. He wondered what Arthur would do if he ever gave him a look. Alfie would never hurt him, he didn’t think so at least, but a fight between the two would be catastrophic.

 

“What did Arthur want?” Alfie wrapped his arms around him.

 

“Just checking in.” The wind swung passed again, tossing snowflakes throughout the wagon.

 

———

 

They did eventually have to leave their warm wagon. Esme has come knocking with food and all but forced them to join the rest of the family. The kids were especially pleased to see them, excitedly telling him and Tommy about what they’d seen so far. From what he gathered, it was; four rabbits, two dogs, one big tree shaped like Arthur, one small tree shaped like a regular tree, a very debated upon wolf, and a second travelling Romani family. Esme hadn’t let them go say hello though, on account of the potential wolf.

 

Alfie wasn’t sure how much of that was accurate, he was hoping the wolf wasn’t, but he wouldn’t mind seeing an Arthur shaped tree. They’d sat comfortably with everyone once the kids deemed them uninteresting again, taking advantage of their limited time to cuddle openly.

 

“I have an idea.” Tommy whispered, peeking at Alfie. They’d circled the wagons to block out most of the wind, and a large campfire drove off the chill. Although Michael didn’t seem to think so. Polly had bundled him in every spare coat they had and tucked blankets around him for added warmth. The kids thought it was hilarious. They’d invented a game out of it, sneaking up behind him and tugging his blankets away before dashing past the wagons, shrieking as he chased after them.

 

“To help Michael?” He side eyed Tommy before lunging forward to stop Karl from tripping. “Poor thing just needs to be less of a target. Probably would help if he loosened up a bit.”

 

“No,” Tommy held the stolen blanket up as Karl righted himself. “About,” he nodded toward their wagon.

 

“Ahh, all ears then sweetie.”

 

Karl took off. He bolted around the fire as Michael ran by, swearing under his breath. The wind spun around them, heaving Karl’s blanket up above his head sending him screaming with joy.

 

“What if,” Tommy paused, sucking in a breath as a painfully insecure curl sank around his shoulders. Alfie hummed encouragingly, finding himself wishing Changretta was alive again. He liked to imagine different ways he could’ve tortured him for leaving Tommy in this state. Alfie would bet his bakery that Tommy wasn’t his first victim either. Men like that take what they want. Picturing the painful, bitter look on his face as he died was barely helpful anymore, he wished he’d stepped on the bullet wound.

 

“Go on love,” He wrapped an arm around Tommy, tucking him closer. The kids laughter covered their conversation nicely, he doubted Tommy would’ve spoken otherwise.

 

“Arthur was telling me,” He tried again. “He has a system with Ada.” His shoulders eased as the focus turned to Arthur.

 

“Systems are good, always liked a bit organization myself.”

 

“He said Ada gives him a look when,” He said, “When she needs,” The wind skittered on the smoke, sinking and throwing the flames high, sending the kids shrieking. Polly’s eyes found Alfie’s then, silently conveying her concern. He waved her off, nudging Ada away as well when she stepped closer.

 

“When she needs?”

 

“Help.” He swallowed thickly. Shock threatened to break out across his face. Alfie would never admit to it, but if Arthur found a nice bottle of rum in his wagon soon, he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d done the impossible. Tommy’s eyes were alarmingly wide though. The wind spun, twisting the smoke as apprehension rang through him.

 

Alfie tugged him upwards, thinning air pushing him to move quickly. Worried eyes followed them, but were waved off again. They’d understand, hopefully. Arthur hadn’t noticed, thankfully, he was too caught up trying to trip Michael so the kids could run ahead.

 

He pulled the door open, nudging Tommy into the wagon. Demolishing their own things was one thing, accidental fire tornados burning everything, was another. Alfie wasn’t too keen on fire after blowing up Changretta’s club, he’d preferred brawling to explosions any day.

 

“I’m not going to lose it, I’m good.” Tommy grabbed his arm, slowing him. Good or not, the too large eyes and pale face spoke otherwise. “Alfie, it’s fine.” He nodded encouragingly.

 

Thin arcs wound around them, agitated, but not sharp enough to cut. He was still too pale for comfort, and exhaustion creased his forehead. Alfie sympathized, their last few weeks hadn’t been restful. He busied himself with settling Tommy into bed and lighting the heater.

 

“So,” He said, sitting finally. “When you’re uncomfortable, you’ll give me a look.”

 

“Maybe,” Tommy’s fingers twisted into the covers. “We really don’t have to do anything you know, we can just ignore it.”

 

“No, no I like the idea.” He bloody well loved it, but saying that wasn’t going to encourage Tommy. “I think it’s clever.” Arthur knew his siblings better than Alfie thought. Getting Tommy to admit anything was impossible, but shifting the scenario to Ada worked, Alfie had used that before. He hadn’t realized how well it would work if Tommy thought they’d gone through something similar already. It probably felt safer, more routine.

 

“It probably won’t happen.” The smoke arched slowly overhead, reaching up to touch the curved ceiling.

 

“All sorts of things have plans that haven’t happened yet, doesn’t mean they will. Doesn’t mean they won’t though either.” He scratched lightly through Tommy’s hair. “The apocalypse, that’s a big one innit? Plans for food, society, the upper class.” He sniffed. “Did you know I have a plan for the day Ollie comes to me with an honest, well thought out business proposal?”

 

“Is he really so awful?” His grip on the blankets loosened as he looked up, listening curiously.

 

“He tried to sell rum to some Americans once, prohibition over there right? Well that hadn’t had good booze in a while then. He gave each of them a few bottles as samples. _‘So they were a little tipsy, and would spend more money.’_ They got so drunk they beat him up and stole everything he had.”

 

“Poor Ollie.” Tommy muttered. He went on for a while then, reviewing Ollie’s most notable mistakes. Tommy’s eyes were drooping, his head rocking lightly as Alfie scratched.

 

“I really don’t think Ollie ever will, not a good head for business.” He finished, Tommy’s head was heavy on his shoulder, his eyes shut.

 

Smoke drifted aimlessly, sneaking through cracks in the wood as it dissipated. The noise outside has dulled finally, the kids snuggling in, too tired to play anymore. Alfie belatedly wondered if Michael got at least one blanket back. He’d have a chilly night otherwise.

 

“I’m going to have to admit Arthur had a good idea, aren’t I?”

 

Tommy smiled sleepily.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really struggled to find a way for Tommy to admit his insecurities vocally. But I think I’ve found a fairly in character ( for my AU at least ) response! Please leave a comment below! They make my day to read :) <3  
> come find me on tumblr @tinypinetrees

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, please leave a comment below! They make my day :) Expect ch. 2 next week!


End file.
